Hopes and Schemes
by Stationed Ashore
Summary: “You heard me,” Sarah said, ready to motivate him the only way she knew how, “I know you screwed things up, Jay, but just how badly? Can you fix this, or did you burn the bridge and turn the river under it to boiling magma?”
1. Plotting

When Metis walked into the lunchroom, bruised and cut, Jay was the first one to say anything about it, but Charles was the first one to move. Springing like a cobra, he looked at Metis' wounds, and anyone could feel the venom he was about to spit at whoever caused them. Had Metis lied then and said that Josh had hurt him, Jay knew that Charles would see to it that he was torn apart.

That's what friends do.

Mostly, Jay was frightened. He had never seen Charles like that before, and it was a terrifying thing – all gritted teeth and narrowed eyes, he looked like someone who found a good reason to become a criminal. Once Jay got over that shock, however, he started to notice another feeling, weaker than the fear, but far more insidious.

He got up and snuck away, leaving Charles and Metis to talk about biology projects, or whatever best friends passed the time with. As silly as it seemed to Jay, he needed to investigate. He knew something felt weird – he just didn't know what. As he was half-outside the cafeteria door, Odette ran up behind him and threw a friendly arm over his shoulder.

"Where you off to, cat?" She smiled. "What better place to spend your free time than the lunch room?"

"What?" Jay blinked, startled. "Oh. Hi, Odette. Yeah, I just had to, um," he paused, looking for words, eyes shifting from floor to ceiling, "I had to go to the bathroom. So, if you'll just-"

"Oh, no you don't." She grabbed his arm and pulled him back into the cafeteria. "You're no shuckster, honey. Just leave that to the professionals." She used his arm as a leash and yanked him back to her table, where Samuel, Erik and Sarah sat, bemused.

"You've captured another one, I see." Erik smiled.

"We've got more important things to worry about," Odette chided. "Jay here tried to split, and then he lied to me!" She turned to Jay, suddenly sympathetic. "Come on, now. What's buzzin', cousin?"

Jay laughed as he deciphered her words. Sure, Odette was weird, but at least she could make him feel better, even if it was by doing nothing at all.

"It's nothing, really." He glanced around to find eight disbelieving eyes that all begged to differ, and decided to change his tune; "I just had to think about something."

Sarah snorted. "I don't believe that, and I wasn't even there."

"Really," Jay said, exasperated, "I had to figure something out."

Sam pulled his head up from its cradle in his arms and asked, "Maybe we could help?"

Looking around, Jay could see he was outnumbered and out-willed. Sure, he could lie to one of them, but to all three? He knew he couldn't stand long against their incessant questioning. Reluctantly, he said, "I don't know. Metis walked in all bruised before, and Charles jumped up, ready to kill someone. We were sitting around and talking afterwards, and," He trailed off lamely, "I don't know. I just feel weird."

"Yeah, I cast an eyeball over there, before. Charlie was looking real frosted." Odette cocked her head to one side. "What's that got to do with you, though?"

"That's the part I don't get." Jay sighed, "I feel like-"

Erik quirked an eyebrow. Ever insightful, he asked, "Do you think you might be jealous?"

There was silence as everyone looked to Jay, who was, in turn, staring incredulously at Erik. He glanced quickly back to where Charles and Metis were sitting, and then burst into laughter. "What? You think I'm jealous of Metis? Why would I be jealous?"

No one else so much as smiled. "Maybe because you want Charles to care that much about you," Erik added. "We all know you like him."

Suddenly, Jay stopped laughing as he blushed bright red. "No, I don't-"

"Don't try to hide it," Sarah said. "I see the way you look at him, peeking from across the cafeteria."

"Not to mention the way you twirl your hair when he walks past your seat in biology," Sam added.

Odette giggled, "And the way you're blushing now. 'Fess up, Jay."

He shook his head furiously, not caring who his hair whipped. "No. I'm not jealous of Metis."

"Ah," Erik smiled, "So you admit you like Charles, then."

"What? I-" Yet again, Jay was hopelessly outmatched. He realized that the best way to keep his dignity was to admit the truth, and so he did, albeit begrudgingly. "Fine," he whispered, "I do like Charles. But I'm not jealous of Metis!"

"Are you sure about that?" Erik asked, and was met with silence as Jay did some soul-searching.

Sure, Jay liked Charles; he came to terms with that back in ninth grade. But could he be jealous of Metis, one of his closest friends? He just didn't see it. Maybe he wished he were a little closer to Charles, and maybe he wished they could have a conversation about something other than biology without every other word being an insult. Maybe Jay did wish he were friendly enough with Charles to feel comfortable about asking him on a date, and maybe he did wish that Charles cared when he got bruised, too. Maybe he wished that he could be Charles' best friend, but that did not mean-

"Dammit!" Jay slumped forward across the table and covered his head with his arms in a vain attempt to block out the truth.

"So you are jealous." Sarah proclaimed. "Nice call, Erik. The question now is," She paused a moment for dramatic effect. "What are you going to do about it?"

"I don't know," Jay said, muffled, "Nothing?"

"What's laying low going to do for you? Listen, now," Odette smiled, "Pick your head up, and let's come up with a plan to get Charlie gone for you."

Jay uncovered his head and looked at Odette, slightly confused. Before he could figure out exactly what she had said, Sarah jumped in, saying, "Okay! What's a good way to get closer to someone?"

"Well," Jay sighed, "We are working on a project together."

"Half your job's done for you, then. Just chat him up," Sarah smiled, excited.

"Before you know it, you two'll be tighter than peas in a clichéd pod," Odette added.

Jay looked at them blankly. "Are we talking about the same Charles? He hates me."

"Ah, so you're a masochist," Erik said, amused. "Well, that will be a little tougher, but I think we can manage. We just need a plan to prove he's interested."

"I know!" Sam said. "Ask him for lunch money!"

"Lunch money?" Jay asked, skeptical.

"Yeah, just pretend you forgot it at home, or something." Sam felt that his plan was brilliant, and the sparkle in his eyes showed it. "Start searching through your pockets when you get near his table tomorrow, before Metis shows up. Then, curse like you did just now."

"He'll look up, see you're in need of assistance, and then he'll confess his undying love for you!" Sarah finished.

"Or, maybe he'll just lend you some money," Sam added, with slightly less enthusiasm than Sarah.

"You don't seriously think that's going to work, do you?"

"Isn't it at least worth a shot, Jay?" Erik prodded. "It's not like you have anything to lose."

"Nothing except my dignity," Jay mumbled under his breath. Of course, it didn't really matter how he felt about the new scheme; he was going to go through with it, whether he liked it or not. When he got home from school later that day, Jay picked up the phone and dialed Charles' number. If he was going to hope to get anywhere tomorrow, he knew he had some work to do.

Under the guise of biology, Jay and Charles talked about everything and nothing for hours, until the batteries on their phones died.


	2. Gang aft agley

Jay walked into the cafeteria the next day, feeling a bit more confident than usual. After the conversation he and Charles had last night (_like something from a dream_, Jay sighed), he was feeling that maybe he had a chance today. Charles might give him money, and their hands might accidentally brush, sending electric sparks through them. Maybe Jay would look up through dewy eyelashes, and notice Charles staring, longingly, and they would both collapse to the floor into a writhing pile of hormones and lust. Or, at least, that was the best case scenario Jay had worked out. The worst case scenario involved Jay collapsed in a writhing pile of pain and broken dreams; he was hoping to avoid that at all costs.

He had arrived early enough to catch Charles alone at his usual table, nose buried in a book. Jay did his best to act convincingly, even if it was harder than usual to squeeze a hand into his too-tight pants – just another attempt to attract attention. He reached in one pocket, than another, and another in an increasing panic, and by the time he had gotten to Charles' table, he was stopped in the middle of the aisle, frantically turning out his pockets to the best of his ability.

For his part, Charles was doing his best to ignore Jay and concentrate on his new copy of _Twilight of the Idols_, which he was reading as surreptitiously as possible. He was doing quite admirably, until Jay came to a halt next to his table and nearly yelled, "Dammit," and Charles was forced to lay his book aside and gawk at the scene being made next to him.

Jay noticed the movement, and stopped suddenly, almost-meeting Charles' eyes and giving him a sheepish grin. "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you; just forgot my lunch money. Could you, er," he stammered, heart racing, "Do you have some I could borrow?"

"Nope," Charles smirked at Jay. "I don't have a cent you can borrow."

"Oh, alright." Just as Jay was about to walk away, Charles pulled out his wallet and began laying money on the table in increasing increments. Jay's eyes got wider as singles morphed to fives, which evolved to twenties. Charles looked up at him, the picture of nonchalance. "Do you need something?"

"Well, yeah, I…" Jay sputtered. "Can I borrow some money? I want to get lunch."

"Didn't I just tell you I don't have anything for you?" Charles asked, rationally and cruelly.

The logic was lost on Jay, who pointed to the money on the table. "Then what's that?"

"That's my property, and I'm free to do with it what I will. This includes not giving it to people who would probably blow it on cigarettes."

Jay's mouth hung open for one long, unattractive second while a blush marched swiftly across his face like an army through Belgium. Trying to come up with something, anything to say, he stammered out, "I- I don't smoke anymore…"

By then, it was too late. Charles had turned back to his book, seemingly indifferent to Jay's skin-tight jeans and complete mortification. Jay had no choice but to shuffle away towards his usual table and wait for the comfort of people he knew liked him.

One by one, his friends and assorted classmates filed into the cafeteria, taking their carefully-defined places at one of a number of tables lined neatly throughout the room. Of the people Jay cared about seeing, Erik was the first to arrive; he had barely sat down before he noticed that something was wrong.

Sliding into a seat across from Jay, he took note of his expression and asked, "Did your little talk not go well?"

Jay shook his head, still blushing from his encounter, and still wishing that he could sink through the floor into the boiler room and never be heard from again.

While Erik continued to size up just how badly Jay had been humiliated, the rest of their gang had crowded around the table, and each pair of eyes was full of concern. Odette placed a hand on Jay's shoulder, asking, "You get clutched, cat?"

"Did he hurt you?" Sarah's eyes were full of righteous fire.

Jay shook his head again. "No, I – I'm fine. Really."

He didn't know why he bothered trying to lie, as no one believed him. He was stared down by four incredulous looks, each more disbelieving than the last, until he finally lost his nerve.

"Okay, fine!" Jay sighed, defeated, "He didn't give me anything, insulted me, and then ignored me."

Really, now – what did Jay expect? That Charles' sunny disposition and charitable nature would make up for the fact that he _hated_ Jay? He was wondering how he had deluded himself into that insanity when he was interrupted by his friends' concern.

"That bastard!" Sarah exclaimed. "Where does he get off acting like that? I'm gonna go over there, and-"

As she made to get up from the table, Jay lunged for her arm, grabbing it and holding her before she could do anything rash. He pleaded with her, "Sarah, please don't." When he saw that wasn't calming her rage, he added, "Haven't I been embarrassed enough already?"

The appeal to her pity worked, and she sat down, still fuming.

Eric sighed, massaging his temples. "Well, we should have expected as much."

"How were we supposed to expect he would be such an-"

Eric cut Sarah off before she could work herself into a frenzy. "Come on, now. This is Charles we're talking about, after all. He's not known for his friendliness."

"In fact," Sam chimed in, "He doesn't like Jay much at all."

At this, Jay sank lower into his seat. "You know, I was thinking I'd just give up."

"What?" Odette gasped. "You're real gone for Charlie, cat; you can't just forget him like that."

"Why not?" Jay asked. Right now, that seemed like the sanest option.

"Because we're going to come up with another plan!" Sarah said, full of the optimism Jay had so recently lost.

Jay looked to Eric, usually the voice of reason in times like this. Eric shrugged, but Sam was insistent. "You can't give up so soon after you started. Why don't you try getting closer to him, Jay?" He asked.

"Right. How am I supposed to do that when his life's goal is to make me cry?"

Eric smiled. "That's exaggerating, and you know it."

"Yeah," Sarah added, "Obviously, he's only trying to count how many shades of red you can turn."

Jay couldn't help but blush. No matter what Charles' goal was, he didn't like it, and he wanted out of their relationship. Of course, Jay wasn't quite sure if he could classify his and Charles' collection of miserable interactions as a 'relationship,' but he liked to hope.

"Why don't you cool it for a few days," Odette schemed, "Just talk to him about your project. Start up your relationship like any pair of squares would do."

Sam jumped onto the bandwagon. "While you're getting him to like you, we'll come up with another plan."

"And then he'll confess his true love!" Sarah added – it was the least useful comment, but the most excited. Her feelings were contagious, and Jay was starting to feel a little more hopeful about his situation. Obviously, he got rejected today because he hadn't gotten far enough with Charles, yet. He couldn't expect to become his best friend after one good conversation. Jay would just talk to him again tonight, and then the night after that. Eventually, they'd set up a time to work on their project together, and they could waste some time hanging out, playing video games, and who knows what after that. Perhaps they'd wind up writhing in a pile of lust, after all.

***

Jay got home that day and booted up his computer, slightly flushed with anxiety. He had just gotten Charles' MSN address, and was ready to use it. Well, maybe _ready_ was a bit of a stretch, but he was going to talk to him, whether he wanted to or not. Jay had progress to make, and he wasn't about to let a little thing like nerves stop him.

His resolve held until he was staring at his buddy list, mouse hovering over the 'add' button. Did he really want to talk to Charles today, after getting humiliated so thoroughly? Maybe he should just shut the computer off and go watch baseball – it was a much safer alternative. Just as he was about to push the mouse over to the close button, his finger twitched, opening the box that encouraged him to add Charles' name and try to talk to him. Who was he to ignore that box?

He typed in the screen name, clicked 'Submit," and began praying. "Don'tletCharlesbeon don'tletCharlesbeon don'tletCharlesbeon – fuck!" Charles was on, and Jay decided to take up atheism with Metis.

It took every inch of backbone he had, but eventually he gathered the nerve to say something.

"hi," he typed, "its jay. whats up?" As he waited for Charles' response, he held his breath; before he got the chance to turn blue, Jay heard the little 'ding' that was suddenly the happiest sound in the universe.

"Nothing much. What do you want?"

_Of_ _course_ Charles typed properly in instant messages, and _of course_ he was still going to act like an ass.

Jay pounded his head on the keyboard and nearly sent the long mash of consonants and nonsensical punctuation when he remembered that it would only make Charles mock him again. Instead, he held down the backspace button and watched his stupidity vanish from the screen and suddenly, he felt a little better. Sure, Jay was hopeless sometimes, but there was a backspace button, right? He had the chance to start again, to try to make himself seem a little better and a little more appealing, and he would be damned if he wasn't going to use the chance he got!

Instead of talking to Charles in broken internet-phrases, Jay decided to use sentences; real sentences that would make Charles realize that he was a person worthy of speaking with. They talked together until they both had to leave for dinner, and this time they didn't even pretend to talk about their project.

One day of talking turned into two, until their conversations became a nightly ritual Jay enjoyed more than anything. He hadn't come close to breaking down Charles' walls yet, but he knew he was getting somewhere – when he saw Charles in the hallway, they exchanged something close to friendly smiles, which was more progress than Jay thought he would ever make.

***

"So, how've things been going?" Sarah prodded before she even sat down. "Have you been talking to Charles?"

Jay smiled, "Yeah, actually. We've been IM-ing back and forth with minimal insults. I even set up a date to work on our bio project!"

"That's great, because do we have a plan for you!" She returned his cheerful grin, tinged with idealistic excitement.

"You said Charlie flipped out when he saw Metis got hurt, right?" Odette asked, and Jay nodded his head. "Then, what would he do if he saw _you_ hurting?"

"If you pretended to get into a fight with someone, we could tell how he really felt about you." Sam said, glancing up at Jay from his makeshift arm-pillow.

"Wait, what?" Jay asked, more shocked than confused. Sure, he wanted Charles to show some interest in him, and sure, he was probably a masochist for liking Charles in the first place, but there was no way he was willing to get himself injured just to attract attention.

Reading the look on Jay's face, Erik quickly added, "I know it's stupid, but it would only be a _pretend_ fight. You wouldn't actually get hurt."

"Oh, yeah," Sarah continued. "We don't actually want to get someone to beat you – we just want to make Charles realize that he loves you."

Erik sighed and shook his head, "It's dumb logic, but it's the only thing we could come up with."

"It'll work like a charm!" Odette smiled. "And Erik here is more than willing to be the one to rough you up a little." She threw an arm around Erik's shoulder and was met with a blank stare.

"Wait, when did I agree to that?"

"You didn't need to agree, cat," she explained, "Sarah and I can't do it because we're sweet, delicate and dainty flowers, and Sam is in no fit condition to be going ape on poor Jay. It has to be you."

Before Erik got the chance to continue his dissent, Odette's opinions were quickly backed by Sarah and Sam, and the majority established a tyranny never before seen at the once-friendly lunch table.

"You wouldn't have to actually do anything, anyway," Sarah said. "Just take Sam and sit at a different table tomorrow and glare at Jay if he walks past you. Odette and I will take care of the bruising." She gave Jay a look backed by pure malicious intent, and he wondered if it was too late to run screaming.

It was.

Before anyone else could speak, Sarah and Odette were squawking about proper makeup techniques and the subtleties of bruise shading far too loudly for Jay to suggest that their idea was ridiculous. Slowly, he began to realize that it didn't matter what his feelings towards Charles were anymore – he was going to be forced into every one of their schemes. Luckily for all involved, Jay really didn't mind. The worst that could happen was that Charles wouldn't talk to him except to occasionally humiliate him, which would only set him back as far as Square One.

The next day, Sarah and Odette invited themselves to Jay's house far too early in the morning to help him 'get ready.' Carrying boxes of eye shadows and soft pastels (Odette's art student contribution), they sat Jay down and colored his face, blending shades and tones in ways he never knew were possible. A painstaking half-hour later, their masterpiece was finished – Jay looked like someone had given him a black eye.

"Don't smudge it," Sarah threatened. "And don't forget to pretend to be angry at Erik."

Jay had never been happier to have his own car. He knew he'd be getting gawked at all day, so the semi-privacy of nothing but his two chipper passengers was his last refuge from stares and whispers. As soon as he walked into school, the questions started:

"What happened?"

"Who hit you?"

And the popular, "Lose a fight, fag?"

He did his best to avoid most of the interrogations with mumbled one-word responses until lunch time. Walking in later than usual on purpose, he made sure to catch Metis' eye before quickly looking away; that was all the prompt Metis needed to get call Jay over, yelling, "What the hell happened!?"

Jay sighed and shuffled to the table, trying to look uncomfortable at all the attention. This was his chance to see how Charles really felt about him, and he wasn't going to blow it with shoddy acting. Heck, he'd been backstage at enough play rehearsals to know how to deliver lines; this should come naturally to him. Sitting down next to Metis, he tried his best to avoid looking at either of them (especially Charles, who was sizing up the bruises on his face).

"So," Metis prodded, "What attacked you?"

Jay shuffled a foot under the table, actually starting to feel a little awkward under Charles' gaze. "I, er… Well… Erik did." He looked up to examine his friends' reactions – Metis' eyes were as wide as saucers, but Charles merely quirked an eyebrow.

"What?" Charles asked, sounding much more skeptical than Jay wanted him to be.

"I knew it!" Metis proclaimed, pounding a fist on the table, "I knew he'd snap one day! I figured he'd try to strangle someone, though… Ah, well. Close enough. Did you hit him back?"

It was all Jay could do to keep from laughing out loud. If only Odette knew how good the choice she made was… "Uh, not really, no. It was…" He glanced around, looking for the right words, "It was all so… sudden. I didn't know what to do."

Metis sighed and shook his head. "We need to get you fighting lessons, man."

"No," Charles smirked, "What Jay needs is acting lessons."

Jay's head snapped up to look at Charles. "Wait, what?" He stammered, feeling the heat flooding to his face.

"Yeah; what?" Metis seconded.

"May, he's lying to you." Charles shook his head, prepared to explain the situation to his friend in little words. "Erik didn't hit him. I'm willing to bet my house that they didn't even argue."

Jay's face got even redder, but he did his best to keep his story alive. "N-no, we did fight," As an afterthought, he quickly added, "Honest."

Looking back and forth between the two of them, Charles' smug grin and Jay's nervous withdrawal, Metis realized quickly that he'd been had. "Seriously, Jay – what happened?"

"Really, I…" Jay was about to continue to defend himself, but one glance at Charles' sharp green eyes reminded him that there was no way he'd get them to believe his story now. "Okay, fine. I hit myself in the face with my blow drier." He lied quickly to avoid looking like a total tool; this one, they seemed to believe.

"Alright then – I totally would have lied about that, too," Metis started laughing. "Keep telling everyone the fight story, seriously."

"I never thought you had it in you," Charles mused. Before Jay could embarrass himself further by figuring out exactly what Charles meant by that, he mumbled something about needing to talk to Sarah and excused himself from the table, running to the sanctuary of his co-conspirators.

"Charles didn't believe me," He sighed, slumping down into a seat, "I had to make up some crap story about hitting myself in the face, and it looks like he lost the little respect he might once have had for me. Can I give up now?"

Odette gasped. "What? How could he see through your perfect bit, cat?"

"We had it worked out perfectly!" Sarah complained. "He's too smart for his own good."

Jay scoffed, "Tell me about it."

"Alright, you know what – we'll come up with another plan," Sarah said.

"One that Charlie won't be able to total!" Odette added.

She called Sam and Erik back to their usual seats and the scheming began again in earnest. Jay did his best to keep out of it, hiding his head in his arms not too much unlike how Sam was. Part of him really didn't want to try anymore; Charles made it clear that he didn't particularly care about Jay, and that no matter how hard he tried, he would never ever be able to get as close to him as Metis was. That part was easily quashed by his friends' collective optimism, though, and even though he'd have no part in the planning, Jay knew he'd actually try to carry out their next plot in earnest.

He was definitely something of a masochist, after all.

(Author's Note: After recent HoneySyn plot developments, I'm realizing that Erik was a better choice than Odette ever could have realized...)


	3. FM Elle

Jay's conspiratorial crew still hadn't come up with a new plan. After the thorough dismantling of their last attempt, they knew this one needed to be bullet-proof, and in spite of hours of concentrated brainstorming, they couldn't formulate a single invincible plot. Jay himself didn't mind too much – he used the time to get closer to Charles in little ways. Their biology project finished without a hitch; the decent grade they got helped cement their working relationship, and the near-constant stream of IMs and YouTube videos helped foster something a little more personal. It was hard to get inside Charles' mind, but Jay felt that, months after he began trying in earnest, he was finally making a little headway.

Days turned into weeks; seasons changed along with hairstyles, and relationships blossomed just as party season was kicking into high gear. Lounging around his bedroom one day, Jay was thinking about calling Sarah and getting ice cream when his phone rang, filling the small room with the lively sounds of _Begin the Beguine_. Snatching the phone off his dresser, a quick glance at the display told him it was Metis.

"Jay?" Metis asked by way of hello. "I need to ask you something. Like, seriously."

"Uh, sure. What do you need?" Jay asked, taken aback at Metis' urgency.

"You're not gonna believe this, but Josh invited me to a party. A jock party."

Jay paused before responding, "Wait, what?"

"Yeah, I know." Metis sighed. "I got Charles to agree to come too, but it doesn't change the fact that I'm not going to know anyone there."

"Then why don't you just not go?"

It seemed like the most logical solution to Jay, and he was wondering why it never occurred to Metis when he answered quickly, "I can't turn down his invitation! I mean…" Metis paused while he tried to gather his thoughts, then finished, "You know he'd squish me!"

In his pause, though, Jay detected something a little more than just fear; in fact, if Jay didn't know better, he would have said Metis might have a secret crush on the man he was making out to be a monster. For the sake of Metis' privacy, he ignored his instincts and moved on to more pressing concerns. "Anyway, you never asked me anything."

"Oh, yeah. Duh," Metis said, and Jay could imagine him smacking himself in the head. "I was wondering if you wanted to go, too. I mean…" He trailed off sheepishly.

Preparing for a mention of his own secret passions, Jay asked hesitantly, "What?"

"Well, neither of us can drive; besides, you know Charles and I will want to drink some, so maybe you could-"

"You want me to be your ride?" Jay asked, both relieved and a little insulted. Sure, he wasn't a big fan of getting called up to play chauffeur, but it beat getting called invited just so he could try and get Charles interested.

"Not just that!" Metis added quickly, trying not to hurt his friend's feelings. "I really want to come and hang out with you – it's just that I need you to serve a dual purpose. Think of it this way," Jay could hear the smile in Metis' voice, "At least you're my most useful friend. I mean, what good is Charles?"

Jay snickered. "Yeah, that's true. Fine, I'll come. You're just lucky I'm not making you treat me to dinner afterwards…"

"I don't know if you're that useful." Metis laughed.

***

At lunch the next day, Jay told the story of how he got dragged into going to his first jock party, and his friends hung on every word. Before he could start feeling too smug about his prowess as a story-teller, Sarah bust his bubble.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking, Odette?"

"I do think so. Jay and Charlie are both going to be at this bash…"

"With a whole bunch of other boys…"

"If Jay starts getting too close to one of them…"

"Charles will get so jealous he'll be bound to confess his undying love!"

The two girls sat smiling contentedly at each other while Jay looked on, confused. How they managed to make the leap from 'designated driver' to 'drunken, jealous sex' he would never come to find out, because before he could question it, both Sam and Eric agreed.

"I don't know about the whole 'undying' part," Sam smiled from the comfort of his sweatshirt/pillow, "But I don't see how that can't work."

Erik shrugged, "It beats the whole lot of nothing we've got worked out already."

"Wait!" Jay jumped in before they could get too carried away. "What if this other guy thinks I'm actually interested in him? And what if Charles doesn't care either way?"

"Well, I know you don't have too much of a backbone, but you could try telling the other guy that you're not into him," Sarah said, delivering a crushing blow to Jay's already suffering dignity. "And if Charles doesn't care, we'll just move on to the next plan, same as always."

"You've got nothing to lose, cat. It'll be boss, I promise," Odette added cheerfully.

Jay sighed, looking around the table. He knew he couldn't beat the combined might of his friends, but he didn't mind too much. He was going to go to the party to begin with and, for the first time, they seemed to have come up with a viable plan together, which is more than anything Jay could have said before. Besides, he couldn't get too fed up with them yet, anyway; he knew he was going to need help picking out an outfit to wear.

***

The night of the party, Odette came over and helped Jay get to looking his best. Sliding into a pair of too-tight jeans and his favorite mesh shirt/wife beater combination, Jay checked himself out in a mirror while listening to Odette's squeals in the background. He had to admit it – even by his own standards, he was looking pretty sexy.

"That is one classy chassis you've got there, lover boy!" Odette giggled, "Charlie'll flip when he sees you."

Jay couldn't help but blush at her comments while she started styling his hair. He hadn't quite gotten used to his new short 'do; luckily for him, Odette was a little handier with a flat-iron and gel than his sister was, and she had him looking presentable in no time. With one last warning to "Shoot low; they're riding Shetlands!" she shoved him out the door, following close behind and making her own way home.

The ride to Metis' house, where his two charges awaited his arrival, was uneventful except for the way Jay's knuckles tightened on the wheel as he turned into the driveway. Before he leaned on the horn to beckon his friends to their awaiting chariot, he gave himself one last glance in the mirror. If he couldn't attract Charles' attention like this, then there was no possible way they'd ever have a relationship.

Shortly after he honked, Metis ran out of the house, Charles following behind him at a more leisurely pace. "The party started ten mi-" Metis threw open the passenger door and started to scold Jay for being late before he was distracted. "...Jay, you look like gay vampire bait."

"Wait, what?" Jay blushed. "Is that supposed to be a compliment?"

"Of course," Metis said, sliding into the seat and yelling at Charles to hurry up before turning back to Jay. "Why so sexy?"

Finally getting close enough to hear their conversation, Charles added, "I'm pretty sure that's not how it goes in the movie, May."

"I wasn't planning it or anything." Disregarding Charles' comments, Jay turned yet a deeper shade of pink. "Odette picked out my clothes for me, so-"

"Then we're lucky you're not dressed like Danny Zuko." Charles said snidely, climbing into the back seat.

Metis rolled his eyes. "Do you do anything that isn't a movie reference?"

"Nope," Charles smirked. "All my life, I've been preparing for my role as an actor by quoting movies. I'm surprised you didn't catch on until now. I though all my milkshake lines were a little obvious…"

Jay had to catch himself before he said something embarrassing about how good an actor he though Charles could be, and how much he'd want to see him, larger-than-life and preferably at least half-naked. Instead, he simply shook his head and drove forward into the depths of jock territory.

You could see the party house from a mile away – the cars lined up the street and the pounding baseline of bad dance music were a pretty obvious indication that someone's parents were out of town, and every empty beer can on the lawn was an invitation to come join the fun. Parking his car, Jay climbed out and walked up to the house, Charles and Metis following closely behind him and bickering playfully. Jay was hoping against hope that Charles was lagging behind just to admire the effort it took to squeeze himself into his pants, but he knew better; in all likelihood, Charles would be too busy looking at Metis to be looking at his ass, and he couldn't bring himself to turn around and find out.

As soon as they got inside, Jay didn't feel so much overdressed as underclothed; everyone else was wearing jeans and T-shirts, a striking contrast to all the skin he was showing. Suddenly afraid that it might be a little too easy to attract attention, Jay made sure to stick near his friends, who proceeded to grab drinks and sit on the nearest unoccupied couch. Being near them was fun for the first hour, before the fact that Jay was the designated driver began weighing a little too heavily on his mind. Everyone else was drinking but him, and to top it off, all he was doing was sitting awkwardly on a couch when he could be up talking, dancing, anything else, anything _fun_. Metis didn't notice when Jay got up, swaying to the music, but Charles noticed the movement out of the corner of his eye and was treated to the sight of Jay slinking towards the stereo.

Once he got to the corner of the room where everyone who could still stand was dancing, Jay let loose, wriggling seductively and wishing that Charles were up dancing with him. Of course, he'd also settle for being back on the couch and letting Charles use him as a pillow, or even wandering off into one of the back rooms to do other, more private things with him. Jay felt a hand lay lightly on his hips and before he could jerk himself out of his fantasies, his back arched and he gasped quietly, imagining that it was Charles touching him. Quickly, though, he came to his senses and whipped around to see who the straying hand belonged to.

Jay couldn't remember the name to save his life, but he knew the boy by sight. He was tall, dark and handsome in a way so far removed from Charles' cold beauty that Jay couldn't possibly confuse the two, no matter how much he wanted to. A regular at jock parties, his hands were warmed by the alcohol he drank; it made his eyes a little friendlier and begged him to experiment with the hot little faggot he saw dancing by himself.

"Wanna dance?" He asked, not caring that Jay didn't know his name, and caring even less that he didn't know Jay's. All that mattered was that the mesh-and-dye-boy in his hands say yes, and it didn't surprise him at all when he got consent. He tended to have that effect on people.

Dancing far too close, Jay pretended he was grinding against Charles. He gasped a little louder when the hand at his hip ran along his thigh, and he moaned as it moved up to his crotch, caressing him gently and pushing his shirts out of the way to toy with the exposed skin of his stomach. It wasn't so much dancing anymore as dry humping, and Jay hoped to God that Charles was watching him. He held his breath and waited for him to come up behind the mystery jock, telling him curtly to back off before claiming Jay as his own. He'd drag him off into another room and Charles would tear holes in Jay's fishnet shirt in his eagerness before pulling off his own clothes, and…

Jay was pulled from his reverie by a soft whisper in his ear. "Do you want to go somewhere a little more private?" The mystery boy asked, gesturing towards an office a few feet away. Before he could think, Jay nodded his head yes and instantly regretted it. He gave a last, furtive look at the couch where he left Charles and Metis, and- _Wait, did Charles just turn his head away? He's talking to Metis now, but, does he look angry?_ _Is he…_

Before Jay could finish the thought, he was in the back room with the mystery boy's tongue in his mouth. His own hands fumbled awkwardly with the hem of the other boy's shirt until he remembered that this was his first real kiss. After a few more minutes together in the dark, the mystery boy mumbled a few words in Jay's ear, asking once, then twice, pleading with him in a kind of drunken desperation. Finally, Jay dropped to his knees and began undoing the button of the boy's jeans, wishing that he knew his name.

***

It took Metis a long time to realize that Jay had gotten off the couch, and even longer to realize that Jay wasn't even in the room anymore. It didn't really matter too much to him; he had far bigger things to worry about, and besides – Jay could take care of himself. The bigger things were, of course, literal. Josh was looming like a giant across the room, casting his almighty football-star shadow on the lowly likes of the two girls he was talking to.

Girls. _Girls._

Sure, Metis might have been interested in Josh (at least a little bit), but couldn't that dick at least have the decency to pretend to be gay just to play into his fantasies? If nothing else, maybe he could deign to come and say a word to the boy he invited to the stupid party in the first place. Metis was in the midst of a great bout of whining over Josh's stupidity when Charles interrupted him by acting uncharacteristically upset.

Charles showing much emotion at all tended to set off all kinds of warning bells in Metis' mind, but this was something new, even to him – Charles almost looked sad. Was he… angsting? As strange a sight as it was, Metis' mind immediately set to work; one half was caught up in just how attractive Charles looked, but the other half was thinking a little more deviously about how to catch Josh's attention. Metis decided to place his faith in God once more; he asked for a kiss, and he certainly received. In return, Charles received a one-way ticket to the other side of the room, courtesy of Josh.

That giant dick.

***

Jay left the office with an unpleasant taste in his mouth and his hair a mess. Grateful that no one was standing nearby, he quickly realized that it was because everyone was crowded around Josh, Metis and Charles, who was looking for all the world like he just got thrown across the room. Getting closer, he realized that it was because Charles had indeed been flung like a tipsy ragdoll; bursting through the crowd, he asked, "What the hell happened?"

Charles was a little groggy from his new injuries, but not groggy enough to miss the new white stains on the front of Jay's shirt. It was his every instinct to smirk at Jay and say something biting, but all he could manage was a disgusted grimace.

"I don't need sympathy from smokers, posers or whores," Charles growled, putting extra emphasis on the last insult as he pushed through the crowd, reaching the front door and leaving without another word.


	4. So Serious

_Author's Note: I don't usually write these, but I figured I should let my readers know how much I DIDN'T want to finish this story. I was more than a little underwhelmed by HoneySyn's end, and figured I shouldn't bother with the fandom anymore, no matter how close I was to finishing my first chapter fic ever. For the record, it was reviews that kept me going. I read them over again and thought to myself, "To hell with the real story. I've got a good thing going, and if AutoBrig isn't going to spend more time delving into Charles and Jay's relationship, then I will." Please let that be a lesson to you all – reviews make writers happy and help them to finish stories you like. Now, on with the chapter._

_------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

Metis stared at Charles, mouth nearly hanging open. Sure, Charles was never one to be friendly, but that reaction was far more than his usual snarky distaste – that was outright anger. Coupled with the sad-puppy frown Charles had let slip earlier, he was beginning to think there was something very wrong with his friend. Before Metis got the chance to get over the shock, his legs were working hard, propelling him up and through the crowd, following Charles as closely as he could.

Jay simply stood rooted to the ground, feeling sick to his stomach. He wanted to leave, he wanted to die; but instead, all he could do was watch as the crowd slowly disappeared while everyone moved to interrogate Josh.

***

"Charles," Metis called to his friend, who had stormed himself right out the front door of the party house, "What the fuck was that?"

"What, did you miss the cum stains on Jay's tank top?" Charles snapped back as he strode across the front lawn, kicking an empty beer can or two to relieve some of his tension.

Metis stopped chasing for a second; yeah, he _had_ missed that, but why on earth did Charles care so much? He didn't even like Jay. "Listen, you've been acting really weird since we got here." He stood rooted to the spot, waiting for Charles to say something. When he realized that his friend was ignoring him, he yelled, "Just stop walking away and talk to me, damn it!"

Charles listened. "Fine," he said, turning slowly on his heel. "Let's both sit down on the lawn and talk about our feelings. You like Josh and I've been mentally screwing with the both of you, so you kissed me. Now, you're feeling bad because he threw me across the room and I took it out on the first person who talked to me. I'd been acting weird because I was half-drunk and entirely bored, and I'm being oh-so-very uncharacteristically mean now because I'm currently entirely sober and have a pounding headache, all thanks to yours and Josh's pitifully raging hormones. For the record, the Rorschach spots in front of my eyes look like frogs having sex, Doctor Metis. Is there anything else you want from me?"

"I'm sorry, okay?" Metis said, not sounding very sorry at all, but feeling profoundly guilty. "I seriously didn't know Josh was going to do that – I swear I'm going to kill him the next chance I get. You and I both know that's not enough of a reason for you to all pissy at everyone, though. Quit being such a douche and tell me what's actually wrong."

"Or what? You'll whine at me, then leave me to my suffering?" Charles asked, trying his best to tear holes through Metis.

"No; I'll hound you until you die, Charles," Metis glared back, filled with his own rage, "I know where you fucking sleep."

"Try me," he said, before turning and walking away, presumably finding his own way home. For once, there was no cutting smirk, no self-satisfied grin, and that scared Metis more than any sneer of Charles' ever could. Chilled to the bone, Metis knew better than to follow him, instead walking back towards the party to try and find Jay.

It didn't take Jay and Metis very long to run into each other; after a few long minutes of staring blankly at the spot where Charles was, Jay shuffled outside to try and repair what he could. He quickly realized that Charles was long gone, but he figured that Metis might be able to clarify what just went on. The two were best friends, after all.

All those hopes were shattered when Metis asked, "Do you know what the hell just happened?"

Jay shook his head. "Not really," he murmured, looking down at his feet.

"Damn it," Metis sighed. "I just don't get him sometimes."

He looked Jay up and down – he was a wreck. Not only did he look embarrassed and defeated, but his hair was a little mussed and, this time, Metis noticed the stains. He put two and two together very quickly. Pointing at the front of Jay's shirt, he asked, "Does that have something to do with where you were before?"

"Yeah. I don't want to talk about it."

"Oh," Metis said shortly. He was a little taken aback by Jay's sudden promiscuity; it just didn't seem like something he'd usually do. "Look, you and Charles didn't have some kind of secret thing going on, did you?"

Jay laughed bitterly. He wished he and Charles had been secretly seeing each other, or even openly seeing each other. Of course, the chances of that happening now were slim to none. "No. There was nothing like that."

"Then why did he get so angry?" Metis asked, supremely frustrated. Everything that happened tonight was beyond Charles' usual scope of strange behavior. He wasn't prone to temper tantrums like that, not even when he was drunk; not even towards Jay who he pretended to hate. He seemed actually, genuinely hurt in a way Metis had never seen before, not even from people who displayed more emotions than amused and sardonic. The only explanation he could imagine was that Charles was in love, but could that even happen?

Metis shook his head. Obviously he wasn't sober yet – there was no way the Charles he knew could ever love anyone. Enjoy the company of, sure; appreciate, maybe; but love? No fucking way.

Watching Metis' inner debate rage on, Jay began feeling sick. His back room experience was an all new low for him, and the taste that was still in his mouth had him reeling. Jay had never felt so sick of himself in his life. It almost made Charles' anger make sense in his mind. Almost.

Lost in a reverie of self-pity, Jay nearly missed Metis banging his head against a nearby tree. Quickly snapping out of it, Jay ran over, pulling Metis away. "What are you doing!?" he asked.

"I can't take it!" Metis yelled. "None of this makes any sense! Seriously, there is something wrong with you and Charles."

"What do you mean?" Jay asked, wondering what on earth Metis was thinking.

Brushing bits of bark off his forehead, Metis replied, "Either you're both in love or you both belong in a mental hospital; those are the only things I can come up with. I really, really think it's the second one, by the way."

Blushing, Jay stared pointedly at the ground. He knew how he felt about Charles, but did Charles seriously return the feeling? He didn't think it could happen, especially not after what happened tonight. "Well, I can't speak for Charles or anything, but…" Jay trailed off.

"But what?" Metis asked bluntly.

"I don't know," Jay replied quickly, eventually adding, "I mean, well… I think I like Charles. I really doubt he likes me, though."

Metis stared blankly at Jay. "Are you kidding me?"

Jay was about to open his mouth to respond when Metis exploded. "Are you fucking kidding? You couldn't have told me all this ten minutes ago when I was trying to figure out what was wrong with you? Jesus Christ, Jay." He sighed and shook his head. "How long have you liked him for, and why didn't you tell me back when I could actually do something about it?"

They stood together in silence as Jay tried to figure out the answer to that. He realized he liked Charles a few months ago, but why didn't it ever occur to him to tell Metis, their mutual friend who might have been able to come up with a working plan to get the two of them together? Jay felt like a complete idiot.

"I guess I was afraid of what would happen if I told you," Jay said. He was more than a little jealous of their close-knit friendship, and to be entirely honest, Jay never really could figure out just what the relationship between Charles and Metis was. Undoubtedly they were best friends, but more often than not they seemed closer than that. Metis was the only person Charles ever opened up to, and Jay realized now that he was always afraid it was because the two of them were lovers. "I told Odette and them, but I just never really felt like I should say something to you."

"Come on, Jay," Metis sighed. "Don't you know me better than that? You can tell me anything. I could have sworn I'd drilled that into your head by now."

"Yeah," Jay smiled, still exhausted and confused, but feeling more optimistic about Metis' tone. There was comfort now where before there was nothing but exasperation and anger. There was the glimmer of a chance in his voice for Jay to cling to, and cling he did.

"Do you think there's any way Charles might like me?"

"I don't see how he couldn't," Metis shrugged his shoulders. "Unless he's actually lost most of his marbles, the only way he'd get so angry is if he cared about you."

Jay smiled broadly. There was a chance! There was a chance that Charles liked him, and that he hadn't screwed everything up, and that maybe, just maybe, they could work everything out in the end like some kind of twisted fairytale romance.

Noticing Jay's stupid grin, Metis laughed. "Let's get in the car, okay? I'm seriously wiped out after all this. If we see Charles walking, we can try and pick him up. I doubt he'd get in the car, though," he sighed. "We can figure something out tomorrow."

They both climbed into Jay's car and started driving towards Metis' house. With i monster's _Us Against the World_ playing and the wind in his hair, Jay felt like he and Metis could do anything – climb Mount Everest, conquer Russia, even get Charles to say that he liked him. The feeling was just powerful enough to keep Jay from gagging when he got home and finally saw the stains on his shirt. The thought that all might not be lost kept him from crying himself to sleep over what he might actually have lost.

There was hope for the first time that night, and that was good enough for him.

***

Jay woke up the next morning to the sounds of his ringtone blaring next to his head – someone was calling him, and a quick glance at the screen told him it was Metis. Groggily, he picked up the phone and, wiping the sleep from his eyes, answered it with a mumbled, "'Ello?"

"Jay; it's Metis. You need to stop sleeping now, because I've got a plan."

"Really?" As if Metis' words were a magic spell, Jay was awake and sitting up, pushing his sheets off and hopping around his cold wooden floor, looking for clean clothes in case his plan required immediate action. "What is it?"

He could almost hear the smile in Metis' voice, "It's really simple, actually. Just sit down and talk to Charles."

Quite suddenly, Jay stopped hopping and stared blankly ahead. "What?"

"Don't be like that; let me explain first," Metis sighed. Jay could be such a coward sometimes. "I'll invite you both to my house a little later – my parents are out, so they won't care if you two get into a screaming match or start making out or whatever. I won't tell him you'll be coming over, so you'll be able to pour your heart out to him without him expecting it. It'll work like magic."

"I really, really don't want to talk to Charles right now. How do you even know he got home last night?"

"Easy – I called him after I got home. He's calmed down a little since he stormed out, so you'll be able to get through his thick head with no problem," Metis explained.

"God," Jay sighed. "You're sure he won't try to tear my head off when he sees me?"

"I can't promise that," Metis said, feeling far more playful than Jay was. "Seriously, though; you telling him how you feel is the only way you two are going to get together. All your dumb schemes got you was a verbal smack down. This way, you seriously have a chance."

Jay stared at his ceiling, pants half-on, pondering just how much his dignity meant to him. Going to Metis' house meant that Charles was going to insult him, was going to tell him just how stupid he was and just how little his life meant. He would make him feel pathetic and insignificant like no one else could; but maybe, just maybe, Charles would confess something. Jay was hoping that Charles liked him, and that his reaction last night was more than just a subconscious and hateful knee-jerk reaction against whores. So far, though, hoping had only gotten Jay a slap in the face, and there was only so far optimism and masochism could take him.

Hearing the pessimism in Jay's silence, Metis sighed. "Seriously, Jay, you've got nothing to lose. You know what Charles thinks of you right now – don't you want a chance to fix it?"

"No," Jay suddenly snapped. "Thanks but no thanks, Metis. I've been getting forced into these stupid schemes for months now, and I'm tired of it. For all my work, I've gotten nothing but a bunch of insults and injuries. The guy I like hates me and thinks I'm the world's biggest slut. He doesn't like me, didn't like me, and is never going to like me, and I'm an idiot for thinking I could change that. Charles is an uncaring dick, and it's just something I've got to come to terms with and move past. I can't stand being his whimpering puppy anymore."

It was Metis' turn to be silent now. Jay sounded seriously angry, and he figured that, in spite of Jay's rhetoric, it was more anger at himself than at Charles. Metis got that he was tired of playing the fool, and to try pushing him into something else would only hurt him even more. Everyone had a breaking point, after all; obviously Jay had found his.

"Alright," Metis said. "You calm down, and forget about that plan, okay? I'm not going to push you into something you don't want to do."

"I've already had enough of that for a lifetime," Jay muttered bitterly.

Choosing to ignore his friend's foul mood, Metis continued. "Go back to bed. I'll talk to you some other time, okay?"

Before Jay got the chance to respond, Metis had hung up. He understood that well enough – Jay was usually a relatively chipper sort of fellow, and his friends all got a little put off when the pendulum swung the other way. Jay had enough of catering to everyone else's whims, though, and Metis' abrupt ending wouldn't have him feeling guilty enough to change that. He put his cell phone back on his night table and slipped out of the clothes he had put on, climbing back into bed. Jay felt it was the only good idea Metis had come up with.

***

A few hours later, Jay had woken up again and had begun his day as usual, stumbling into the shower, getting dressed, then zoning out in front of the television. He listened to music, ate dinner with his family, and even vacuumed the living room as a favor to his mother. It all passed in a blur of apathy; Jay had never felt more removed from what was happening around him. As day turned to night turned to midnight, activity died down around the house, and Jay was feeling sleepless. Looking for a way to kill time until he got tired enough to sleep, he decided to sit down in front of the computer, and aimlessly explore the depths of the internet. Still fed up with everyone he knew in real life, he decided to try talking to strangers, and was in the middle of a conversation with someone he'd never met before when another window popped up on his screen. It was an instant message. From Charles.

Quickly extracting himself from his other conversation, Jay closed every window but that single instant message – he knew it would demand all of his attention. The question the window prompted was simple but vicious; "What were you and May talking about?"

"when? last night?" Jay asked. Charles was being just vague enough to completely confuse him, and coupled with his surprise at their sudden contact, Jay couldn't think.

"No. This morning." The sentences were cold and curt, and reminded Jay how much he couldn't stand Charles sometimes; obviously, Charles was only talking to him so he could play the over-protective best friend. Had they been having this conversation in person, Jay would have remembered just how scary Charles got when he was concerned about Metis, and he would have begun worrying about his own safety under Charles' piercing eyes. Instead, there was nothing but a computer screen for him to stare down, and suddenly, Charles' domineering love for Metis seemed more pathetic than terrifying.

"none of your business," Jay typed, empowered and emboldened by his realization. "besides, what does it matter to you?"

"Metis was complaining about how stubborn you are and I want to know why." The words filled the tiny screen with immaculate Times New Roman, as impersonal as Charles. "Now, tell me so I can stop talking to you."

Jay laughed out loud. Did Charles really think that was going to work on him? Sure, last night, or even in person, Jay would have let himself be bullied, but from miles away, Charles couldn't do anything to him. His insults even lost their potency.

"if metis wanted to tell you, then he would have," Jay typed, pouring out his soul onto the keys. "you know, the 'jealous best friend' routine can only get you so far with him. you might be his number one right now, but he and josh are going to work out, and in the end, metis is going to decide that he doesn't need to put up with an asshole like you. sure, you two are best friends now, but once metis sees what a real friend is like, you won't be able to hold onto him. you can't beat josh, and you know it."

He shook while he typed, but it was worth it in the end; he smiled as he hit the send button, and smiled even more as he typed Charles' screen name into the 'Ignore' box. The name was gone from his list before Charles could come up with a response that would tear into him and make him re-think his bravery. Staring at nothing but his desktop now, Jay decided that he needed to bask in what he'd done and figure out just what the hell happened. He shut off the computer and climbed into bed again, staring up at the vague outline of his ceiling.

Thoughts were racing around his head, and it was all too much for him to take. Last night's party, his mini-argument with Metis, and now this – his life had changed so drastically in the past two days that he really didn't know what to do now. As fed up as he had been of his friends, Jay knew he needed them now. Picking up his cell phone, he wondered just who he could count on at 4:32 in the morning.

Luckily, Erik picked up his phone on the third ring, before Jay could get too disheartened. He always had been a light sleeper.


	5. What would I do but to set it again?

_Author's Note: Please excuse how short this chapter is, but since I was uploading two at once, I figured I could get away with it._

_------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

By the time Monday came again, Jay had mixed feelings about the necessity of going to school. He hadn't talked to Sarah or Odette at all since the party, fearing their probing questions as to exactly why Charles hated him even more now than before, and he wasn't ready yet to take his place at the usual lunch table. Before he had decided to curl back up in bed and forget the world, his mother was in his room, pulling the blankets off him and telling him to come downstairs for breakfast. He knew there was no getting out of it – she knew every trick in the book, and wasn't about to let him skip school for no good reason. His mind was made up for him. He was going.

He ignored everyone at school as much as he could until lunch. As the bell rang, it sounded more to him like a death knell, and the cafeteria where his inquisitive friends sat would be the end of him. Walking in and sitting down, he braced himself for some of Odette's enthusiastic questions, but Sarah cut her off.

"Erik told me what you said, so don't start to play dumb. How badly did you screw things up for yourself?"

He blinked at her, dumbfounded. Sarah's blunt and tactless accusations weren't even close to what he was prepared for, and he was taken completely by surprise. "Wait, what?"

"You heard me," she said, ready to motivate him the only way she knew how, "I know you screwed things up, but just how badly? Can you fix this, or did you burn the bridge and turn the river under it to boiling magma?"

"I-I don't know," Jay stammered, feeling backed into a corner, "And wait – What makes you think I want to fix things with Charles, anyway? He's a complete douche, and I'm done with him."

"No you're not. Look over at where he's sitting right now," Sarah said, and Jay followed her instructions. He glanced over at the table where Charles and Metis were sitting, and turned back quickly, lest Charles catch him looking. However, a quick glare from Sarah had him looking at them again, and Jay noticed the two friends looking more awkward than Jay had ever seen them before. He let his eyes linger on Charles' expression, caught somewhere between careful sarcasm and poorly hidden self-pity. Jay wanted to smack himself as he dwelled on how cute Charles' little pout was, and how strangely sweet his knitted eyebrows seemed.

"You know, if you weren't staring so much, I'd agree that it's probably over between you two," Sarah began, snapping Jay out of his reverie. "But you still like him. You need to man up, Jay, and take some responsibility for your mistakes. You're not even close to done with him and you know it; you're just running away like a coward so you don't get hurt."

The look on Jay's face let Sarah know that she had pressed all the right buttons. He needed this tough love to get him into gear, because otherwise she knew he would only mope around feeling sorry for himself. He'd never take the initiative himself to get up and tell a guy he was interested, so Sarah had to do it for him. Sure, she worried about her friends, and all Jay's protests coupled with the nasty rumors she had heard about Charles would usually have been enough to put her off the possibility of any relationship they might have, but she knew that a boy like Charles was just what Jay needed. He would provide the spark to move Jay long after she couldn't.

Without another word about it, Jay accepted what he needed to do. As always, Sarah was right – he was running away from Charles the way he ran away from everything when things got too tough. This time, though, things would be different. He'd talk to Charles on his own terms and explain just how he'd been feeling for the past few months. Their relationship couldn't be any worse at this point, so Jay figured he had nothing to lose.

He called Metis as soon as he got home from school, and apologized for the way he had acted the other day. Deciding to take the plunge, Jay set up a surprise meeting with Charles for later that day – he hated the pressure of waiting, and wanted to get it over with as quickly as he could. Pulling off this bandage would hurt, Jay was sure of it, but it might turn out well in the end. He kept his hopes up and prepared for what might be their final confrontation, hoping he'd make it out alive.

***

Jay drove past Metis' house five times that evening, waiting for the signal that Charles was there and that Jay should make his move. Five times, his car slowed to a crawl as he scanned the house for the fake candle that would be glowing in the picture window; four times he sighed deeply, not realizing that he had been holding his breath; three times he counted the seconds as he waited around the block before he made his next pass, knowing that if Charles saw his car, it would all be over. Twice, Jay prayed to anything that would listen, including Flying Spaghetti Monsters, Athena, and the Pope, but once, only once, Jay gasped and hit the gas pedal a little too hard, peeling away from Metis' house after seeing that tiny electric flame illuminating Charles' coat, thrown carelessly onto the couch.

He parked around the block so that no noise would betray his arrival. Charles was supposed to be surprised by his visit and if he wasn't, if an errant gravel crunch or slamming door caught his ear, Jay lost his most potent weapon. Having quit smoking months ago, he knew there was no excuse but nerves as to why he was breathing so heavily or why his hard was pounding so hard in his chest, and he tried to take his mind off it by going over the plan once more in his head: Jay would apologize to Charles, take some abuse, explain why he had done what he did, take some more abuse, beg for forgiveness, take some abuse, curl up in a corner and cry, take some abuse, hang himself in Metis' closet…

Standing on the front lawn of some stranger's property, Jay wondered what he was doing. He shouldn't be here – hadn't he made up his mind about Charles, after all? Wasn't he just giving in to the same pushy friends he had sworn not to follow so blindly? He almost had himself half-convinced that he should turn around and go when Sarah's words echoed in his head.

Wasn't he just running away?

Shambling forward, a zombie to his pride, Jay walked up to Metis' front door and rang the bell. According to plan, Jay was ushered in silently and pointed towards the den, where Charles sat, waiting. Jay stepped as lightly as he could, making it halfway down the hall before he stopped. The dragon he had to slay waited before him, mere feet from where he stood; Jay knew deep in his heart that it was a battle he wouldn't escape unscathed.


End file.
